


everybody's got a hungry heart

by ignisgayentia



Series: ari's promnis halloween week 2k19 [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Zombies, Falling In Love, In the Flesh/Warm Bodies AU, M/M, Researcher Ignis, Zombie Prompto, it's not weird i promise, zombies??? slowly cured by love??? maybe so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-06 07:08:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21222599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ignisgayentia/pseuds/ignisgayentia
Summary: Prompto’s young, far younger than Ignis thought. He’s the same age as Noctis, only twenty. Since he was picked up outside of Niflheim after being reanimated from the dead, he’s been nonviolent, but also nonverbal, not eating, and not very reactive in general. He isn’t responding to any medical treatments, and three different ones have been administered to him in the month that he’s been at the facilities.“Nonviolent, but not reacting to medication,” Ignis hums to himself thoughtfully. “Now, that’s certainly a first.”Ignis closes the file, getting in his car immediately to drive to the Reanimated Rehabilitation Facility, trying to push away the young blonde boy’s chilling bright gray eyes and freckles from his mind.-----FFXV Halloween WeekDay Five:Zombies & the Undead





	everybody's got a hungry heart

**Author's Note:**

> lmao i'm so sorry about the title goes to jail
> 
> sooo i love zombies. I LOVE ZOMBIES and i'm so happy this halloween week exists so i can combine promnis with zombies. i was thinking this to be along the lines of a sort of warm bodies or in the flesh au -- where zombies/reanimated people can be cured to a certain extent under certain circumstances. i wanted to explore that with prompto! i had fun writing this -- i hope you enjoy it <3
> 
> [aneurin](https://twitter.com/chubbyargentum) drew/dedicated a lovely piece of art for this fic that you can find at the end of the piece!

If anyone were to tell Ignis that he’d end up being a medical researcher for the undead, he would have laughed in their face.

Now, Ignis is on his third can of Ebony coffee trying to submit his research paper for the clinical trials he’s just finished on that very subject. With a sigh, he leans back once everything is submitted for approval, finally allowing himself to relax.

Six months of work complete, and Ignis almost feels guilty for taking a moment’s rest. He runs his hand through his hair, thinking of all he’d been through for this particular clinical trial.

Ignis had been running trials on breakthrough medication for the undead since the first outbreak a few years ago. Within that first outbreak, it was initially considered pure luck that certain undead individuals returned to their ‘living’ selves. Of course, with proper research, medication was developed (that Ignis had a hand in), in order to bring the undead (reanimated, Ignis prefers to use) back to functional society at a much quicker rate.

Quicker, however, wasn’t quite quick enough -- it’d still take months and months of injections in order to bring a reanimated person back from that state. In the meantime, they’d have to be fed flesh, highly supervised and restrained, all very inhumane in Ignis’s eyes. 

Ignis’s new trials hope to bring medications that are less invasive, act faster, and work on a more diverse set of cases. (The original medication only worked about 50% of the time.)

There’s still so much work to be done, but Ignis is working as hard as he can to help as many of the reanimated as possible.

Ignis got started in this line of work when his best friend since childhood, Noctis, was one of the first of the ‘undead’ to rise in the first epidemic. Ignis worked day and night to find something to help, any way to reverse it. There weren’t any medications at first -- it was utter chaos, and individuals took it to themselves to ‘get rid of’ the reanimated individuals (mostly by shooting them in the head). It was the first time Ignis saw society truly regress in such a chaotic way, and Ignis did all he could to protect Noctis.

When he finally helped uncover a temporary ‘cure’ for the symptoms of reanimation with his colleagues Lunafreya, Aranea, Ravus, and Gladio, Noctis was the first reanimated person Ignis administered the medication to after brief clinical trials. It was a success; Noctis lives and works in functional society, with very little memory of being ‘undead’. Ignis prefers it that way; it would be awful to have to remember attacking people without any choice in the matter.

Ignis smiles when his phone rings, seeing Noctis’s name on the caller ID -- speak of the devil.

“Noct,” Ignis murmurs as he answers. “I was just thinking about you.”

There’s a gentle laugh on the other end of the phone. “Yeah? Shouldn’t you be finishing your research?”

Ignis chuckles. “Yes, well, I’ve just submitted the final results for approval, so, no, not at the moment.”

“You really need a break, Specs.”

“I’m unfamiliar with such a concept,” Ignis teases. “It’s a bit difficult to relax when there’s still so much work to be done.”

Noctis sighs. “Yeah, I know. That’s kinda the reason I, um, called.”

Ignis raises an eyebrow, taking the last sip of his third can of Ebony. “Oh? Is something wrong?”

“Yeah, I’m at the rehab facility now. They’re thinking of putting one of the reanimated down, and… I dunno, I don’t think it’s right,” Noctis says. “There’s something about him. I dunno. He’s not violent, not anymore.”

Ignis purses his lips. “He isn’t responding to medication? Which patient is it?”

“Uh… the one we found outside of Niflheim.” Noctis pauses for a moment. “His name used to be Prompto.”

“It still is, Noct. He’s merely ill,” Ignis reminds him gently. It’s difficult dealing with a situation where an individual is legally dead and then rises from that state, of course. “When are they going to take him?”

“Yeah. This afternoon. I kinda thought maybe you could take a look at him,” Noctis says. “He just got transferred yesterday, and his records are… different. I dunno, do you wanna come check it out?”

“Of course. Is everything alright?” Ignis asks.

“Yeah, he just… he kinda reminds me of… me.” Noctis sighs again. “Like, if you hadn’t taken care of me, what if… what if this happened to me?”

“I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you,” Ignis assures him. “I’ll head there immediately. Don’t allow anyone to take him yet, alright? Send me the patient file until I arrive?”

“... Okay. Thanks, Specs.”

Ignis hangs up the phone, waiting for Noctis to send him this ‘Prompto’ file. He receives it while he’s in the middle of getting dressed, buttoning up his shirt as he opens the file on his phone. He blinks with surprise when he sees the photo of the patient.

Prompto’s young, far younger than he thought. He’s the same age as Noctis, only twenty. Since he was picked up outside of Niflheim after being reanimated from the dead, he’s been nonviolent, but also nonverbal, not eating, and not very reactive in general. He isn’t responding to any medical treatments, and three different ones have been administered to him in the month that he’s been at the facilities.

“Nonviolent, but not reacting to medication,” Ignis hums to himself thoughtfully. “Now, that’s certainly a first.”

Ignis closes the file, getting in his car immediately to drive to the rehabilitation facility, trying to push away the young blonde boy’s chilling bright gray eyes and freckles from his mind.

\-----

Noctis and Gladio greet Ignis at the facility when he arrives. 

“Hey, that was fast,” Noctis says. “Thanks for driving all the way downtown.”

Ignis waves him off. “It’s no matter, I hadn’t much of an agenda for the day.”

Gladio pats him on the back. “Glad you could make it. I’ve been trying to stall this kid’s transfers for a few weeks now. It’s a lot easier now that he’s _ here _, but they’re trying to issue a final order on him. They don’t want the government to keep paying for him anymore if he ain’t makin’ any progress.”

Ignis makes a noise of disgust under his breath. “Well, if that’s all they’re concerned with, then _ I’ll _ pay for his treatment. Is he entirely nonverbal?”

“I think Noct heard him say yes, like, once,” Gladio says. “He doesn’t really talk, no.”

“So, he understands us, at least? That’s not _ entirely _ unresponsive to treatment,” Ignis notes, mostly to himself. “Take me to him?”

Ignis follows Noctis and Gladio through the facility. Most of the reanimated individuals stay here no longer than three weeks, some lasting as long as six. It’s like most inpatient facilities Ignis has seen. These patients live better than he does on most late-night research days, he feels like. Still, he’s glad they’re able to provide something more humane than during the _ first _outbreak, where the reanimated were mostly killed.

“We’ve tried everything,” Noctis says. “Music, books, colors, television. They won’t let me bring in some video games -- they want him to succeed with simpler stuff first.”

“It’s kinda dumb, like, what if he doesn’t _ want _ to do any of that shit?” Gladio scoffs.

Ignis nods. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Noctis and Gladio stop outside one of the rooms. There’s a small observation window into Prompto’s room, but there isn’t much to observe. Prompto’s seated on the tiny twin mattress, hugging his knees to his chest. His blonde hair falls almost entirely into his eyes that are a clouded bright gray (a sign he’s not completely transitioned from reanimation phase yet). He doesn’t appear angry or violent, as Ignis expected from the file, but there is a sadness in those gray eyes that Ignis has yet to see in patients not yet responding to treatment fully.

“Does he always appear so…” Ignis trails off, uncertain how to phrase it.

“Sad? Yeah,” Noctis says with a soft sigh. “Hey, Prompto? You okay?”

Prompto turns his head at the sound, looking through the observation window. His expression remains unchanged as he looks at Noctis, but his eyes travel over to Ignis, blinking as he lifts his head up entirely to look at his new guest.

Ignis is used to being suspiciously regarded at first -- especially when his name usually accompanies the terms ‘experimental’ and ‘clinical trial’. This, however, is different. Prompto doesn’t seem suspicious or nervous, he merely seems curious.

Prompto places his palms on the bed, no longer hugging his knees defensively as he continues to stare at Ignis, eyes still sad but now curious as well, long eyelashes brushing against pale, gray, freckled cheeks.

“Does he usually respond to newcomers this way?” Ignis wonders.

“Uh, no. He usually ignores them,” Noctis explains. “He’s used to Gladio and I, so sometimes he reacts to us, but he’s never cared about anyone else.”

“I see,” Ignis says. “Give me a few moments with him?”

Noctis nods. “Yeah, call us if you need anything.” 

Ignis knocks on Prompto’s door out of courtesy, not expecting a response. It’s difficult to advocate for patient privacy when a patient can’t consent to certain things. Ignis wonders if he’ll manage to find some way to know how Prompto’s feeling -- if he’s progressed enough to feel anything at all.

When Ignis walks in and closes the door behind him, Prompto’s legs are sprawled out in front of him on the bed instead of the defensive position he was sitting in earlier. He tilts his head curiously at Ignis, lips parted in not quite surprise, but something close. 

“Prompto Argentum, is it?” Ignis asks, not exactly expecting any response once again. “I’ve heard so much about you. Noct has told me you’re not quite responding to any medication.”

Ignis watches Prompto swallow, and makes a note of it -- it’s a nervous response, not a necessary one. Prompto’s eyes continue to search Ignis’s face, before traveling down his body. His eyes fixate on the skull pendant around Ignis’s neck.

Ignis looks down, following Prompto’s gaze. “Do you like this?” Ignis wonders. “You’re looking at it frequently.” He holds the tiny skull delicately between his fingers.

Prompto swallows again, blinking once, almost like a confirmation. 

Ignis reaches behind his neck to unhook the necklace from his neck, holding the silver chain with the tiny skull pendant out in front of him. “Would you like to see it?” Ignis asks.

Ignis waits patiently, wondering if the question will spark enough inspiration for Prompto to respond. He doesn’t, and so Ignis nods, moving to put the necklace back on.

“Y-yes,” Prompto says, his voice lacking inflection slightly, but there’s urgency to his tone.

Ignis feels triumph flow through him as he moves to hold the necklace out again. “Yes? You’d like to?”

“Yes,” Prompto says more firmly this time, holding a gray palm out to receive the necklace.

Ignis smiles, walking forward to deposit the pendant in Prompto’s palm. Prompto closes his fingers over it, but not all the way -- Ignis isn’t sure if Prompto _ can _ grip entirely, most reanimated people can’t quite yet.

“Can you hold it tighter?” Ignis wonders.

Prompto doesn’t respond with words this time, but shows Ignis that he can’t close his palm any more. Ignis nods, showing Prompto that he’s understood.

“May I sit?” Ignis asks, pointing to the couch next to the bed.

Prompto looks up at him, uncurling his fingers with the necklace in them, blinking curiously. “Yes.”

Ignis sits then, crossing his legs as he observes Prompto, who is currently touching the skull pendant with his free hand.

“Can you feel it? The metal of the necklace?” Ignis asks, wondering if Prompto’s progressed enough to feel touch quite yet.

Prompto closes his fingers as much as he can, an insecure gesture. He shakes his head no.

“It’s fairly common at first, to not feel much. It’s why, in your condition, you can’t feel pain,” Ignis says softly. People were up in arms about the reanimated being able to be stabbed and not even blinking twice at it. It unnerved people, but Ignis knows it’s merely a lack of pain response in the brain -- all scientific, of course. “Do you feel pain now, Prompto?”

Prompto lets out a tiny sigh, his eyes searching Ignis’s. “I d-don’t--kn--kn--”

Ignis smiles, happy to earn a response more than yes or no. “Noct told me you hadn’t said much around him,” he says. “Why are you speaking more around me?”

Prompto shrugs, not very fluidly. “D-don’t know.”

“Are you shy?” Ignis teases. “Or does it come and go?”

Prompto shrugs again. He looks down at the necklace, thumb roughly brushing against the skull pendant. “Wh--why…” He touches the skull again. “Why… this… ?”

“Why do I wear a skull pendant?” Ignis asks. “It was a gift from Noct when we were younger. It reminds me that we’re all mortal. A memento mori, as it were.”

Prompto tilts his head. “Wh-what?”

Ignis smiles. “It roughly translates to, ‘remember that you will die,’ in so little words.” 

Prompto’s brow furrows, as if concentrating on something, the bright gray in his eyes nearly darkening. “I-I d-didn’t.”

Ignis feels his heart clench. “I didn’t intend anything by it. I suppose you didn’t, however. That’s a good thing, though, isn’t it?”

Prompto’s face seems to fall, holding a frown for as long as he can. “I-is it?”

“Do you feel that isn’t a good thing? Surviving is always a good thing,” Ignis assures him.

“I--I’m not. Wor...worth.” Prompto sighs, as if frustrated by his lack of ability to communicate. “Sh-shouldn’t… be… here.”

Ignis hums thoughtfully. He wonders if Prompto’s regression (or merely lack of _ progression) _ has to do more with mental health than physical. He _ has _seen a trend in slower progress in patients with worse mental health. Depression, anxiety -- all common issues given what these patients go through -- tend to cause a delay in progress sometimes.

“Of course you should,” Ignis tells him. “Why would you think that?”

“H-hurt… p-people.”

_ Ah. _ Ignis usually doesn’t expect reanimated memories to come so early in the recovery period (if at all), and therefore he wasn’t prepared to respond to such concerns. Prompto is avoiding his gaze, fixating on the wall, appearing similarly to how he looked when Ignis first laid eyes on him. 

“I’m not proficiently trained in psychiatry, I’m afraid. I don’t wish to hurt you or be responsible if I don’t say the right thing. Shall I fetch someone more appropriately equipped to help you--”

“No,” Prompto says, his attention returning to Ignis. “N-no, please. S-stay.”

Ignis can’t help but smile, happy he’s at least making progress. “Very well, then.” He sighs. He’s never met someone recovering through this that is _ already _ self-loathing. Usually, those thoughts come far later. “If you’re uncomfortable with someone else, then would you mind telling me why you feel responsible for something that isn’t your fault?”

Prompto searches Ignis’s eyes with a puppy-like expression. “It… my fault. _ Is _ m-my fault.”

“No, it isn’t,” Ignis responds simply, “why do you feel that way?”

Prompto shrugs. “Hurt people.”

Ignis resists the urge to let out another sigh. “Shrugging is such a noncommittal gesture, don’t you think?”

Prompto avoids his gaze, but shrugs again. After he does so, the corners of his gray mouth turn up into the tiniest of smiles -- amusement, Ignis sees there.

“Ah. You’re teasing me, aren’t you?” Ignis guesses, a soft chuckle leaving his lips. “You’re very unique, are you aware of this?”

Prompto’s tiny smile is gone, that adorable brow furrow replacing it, looking up at Ignis with skeptical confusion. “N-no.”

“Yes,” Ignis disagrees. “Usually, when one is unresponsive to medication, it means that they’re a lost cause in the eyes of others. Of course, I don’t believe that, but… do you know of your status?”

Prompto tilts his head curiously, as if wanting Ignis to continue.

“The government will cease your treatment if you don’t show signs of improvement, but… from what I can see here, all the signs are here in order for you to _ start _ treatment. There isn’t anything wrong with you physically, so I’m assuming the issue is a psychological one,” Ignis continues. “You don’t believe you deserve improvement, so you… aren’t improving.”

“C-can’t. Won’t… get better.”

“Why do you believe that?”

“Don’t d-deserve to,” Prompto responds, the smile returning, but it’s bleak -- bitter.

Pity tugs at Ignis’s heart. Prompto’s so young, the same age as he when he was thrust into all of this. No one asked for this, particularly any of the victims -- Noctis and Prompto included. People tend to forget that the reanimated are just as much victims as the rest of them.

“Would you say that to someone else in your position?” Ignis points out.

Prompto shrugs again, closing off. “Wh--why…”

“Why what?”

Prompto sighs. “Why do I g-get better…? When p-people I hurt… don’t?”

“Mmm, do you know what you’re experiencing, Prompto?” Ignis asks.

Prompto shakes his head, his eyes wide and vulnerable. He looks at Ignis as if he can immediately fix him somehow, and Ignis wishes suddenly that he could.

“It’s a form of survivor’s guilt, or remorse, if you will. It’s very common in traumatic experiences. Imagine if you were to get into a car accident, or something like that, and you survived, and the person you hit did not,” Ignis says. “People tend to ask existential questions, such as, ‘why me?’ or, ‘why me, and not the other?’ It’s more common than you think.”

“B-but… it was… me. I h-hurt them,” Prompto says. He holds out Ignis’s necklace, still clutched tightly in his palm. He smiles bitterly again. “Sh-should have… been dead.” His gray thumb brushes against the skull. _ Remember that you will die. _

Ignis reaches out, touching Prompto’s wrist. It’s smooth, but not as warm as it should be -- part of the recovery process. “You shouldn’t have been. You were suffering a disease, not unlike any other disease, and you are not responsible for what transpired as a result. You have to believe this.”

Prompto looks down at Ignis’s hand on his wrist, curious instead of angry. He closes his fingers as much as he can over the necklace. “W-wish I could… feel.”

“You will, with time,” Ignis assures him. “I promise you, I will help you.”

Prompto looks up, surprise coloring his usually neutral features. “Why?”

Ignis smiles. “Why not?”

Prompto swallows again, another nervous response. He’s earned more responses from Prompto than he ever expected to, and hope fills his chest that he can fulfill his promise. 

Ignis decides to continue. “Do you know about Noctis? About what happened to him when all this rubbish came about?”

Prompto shakes his head. “N-no.”

“I found him almost in the exact way that they found you,” Ignis tells him, pushing his glasses up his nose. “He’d been unresponsive, completely out of it, searching for food -- if you know what I mean by that. He’d had fresh blood on his face, and there was no way he was responsible for what he was doing. Someone was about to kill him when I found him. I kept him out of harm’s way, even though he had no idea who I was. I managed to get him to a safe place until I could find the proper cure for him. I love him dearly, and I continue to, despite what the disease made him do. I will always love him. He is one of my dearest friends. It took him… quite some time to adjust and come to terms with what he’d done as a result of what happened. Sometimes, it still bothers him. As it should -- not because he deserves to be bothered by it, but because it’s completely normal for one to have a difficult time with it. Noctis… will probably never _ entirely _ recover from that trauma. But he helps people. He helps me. He wants to help you.”

Prompto lets the words sink in, his lips pursed as he processes this. “N-Noctis. Good.”

Ignis smiles. “Yes. He’s very good.”

“N-not me,” Prompto says. “I-I wasn’t. Am not.”

“Do you know what Noct told me? He said that you reminded him of himself,” Ignis says softly. “I’m uncertain who you were before all this happened. I don’t need to know, but I’m here should you wish to tell me. I simply want you to recover, so you may go from here.”

Prompto looks up. “You’re… good.”

Ignis shakes his head. “Come, now, I’m merely doing what I can.”

Prompto slides his hand back so that he can touch Ignis’s. “No. Good.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Ignis whispers, oddly comforted by the weight of Prompto’s lukewarm hand. “Still no touch?”

Prompto shakes his head. “I c-can feel… weight.”

Ignis nods. “That’s a good sign, Prompto. We’ll increase your dosage, and go from there.”

Ignis pulls out his phone with his free hand to make a few more notes, and inform Noctis of a status update. He looks up when Prompto makes a soft noise, close to a gasp, staring at the phone in Ignis’s hand.

Ignis raises an eyebrow. “You like phones?”

Prompto huffs out something that resembles a quiet laugh as he shakes his head. “N-no, the… the, uh--” He sighs when he can’t find the proper words. He imitates holding the phone out in front of him, pressing the front button as he smiles theatrically.

It all falls into place for Ignis then. “Ah. The camera.”

Prompto nods. “Cam… camera.”

Ignis closes his applications, and then presses the camera app with his thumb. “Would you like to use the camera, Prompto?”

Prompto eyes the camera on Ignis’s phone, and nods slowly, almost sheepishly. “I-if… that’s okay.”

Ignis smiles. “Of course.” He gives the camera to Prompto.

Prompto raises it, aligning some shots with the camera. Obviously, phone cameras aren’t much to brag about, and Prompto doesn’t have all of the fluidity of his fingers, but he manages to zoom and unzoom, clicking several shots in the room.

“You enjoy photography,” Ignis guesses, judging by the way Prompto obsessively checks the shots afterwards.

Prompto nods, a hopeful gesture this time, as he looks over at Ignis. “C-can I?” He raises the camera at Ignis.

Ignis lets out a chuckle, disguising it with his fist as he tries not to push away the scrutiny. “If you must.”

Prompto smiles, and it actually reaches his eyes before they disappear behind the phone. He takes a few photos, judging by the shutter sound effect on the phone, all from various different angles. He places the phone on his lap to review his shots, and he zooms in on Ignis’s face in one of them. His finger brushes against the screen before he points to Ignis’s eye.

“Green,” Prompto says reverently.

“Yes, my eyes are green,” Ignis says. 

Prompto looks over at him after a moment. “P-pretty.”

Ignis allows himself a sheepish flush, trying to stifle the heat flooding his cheeks. “My thanks,” Ignis says. “Yours are, as well.”

Prompto doesn’t respond. Instead, he lifts the phone to take more photos of Ignis, zooming in to capture the flush on his cheeks. Ignis laughs at this, turning his head away from the camera to hide his embarrassment. Prompto takes even more photos from that angle.

Prompto smiles as he goes through the photos. “Handsome.” He lets out another tiny laugh. “_ Shy.” _

Ignis chuckles. “Yes, I suppose I am rather shy.”

Prompto presses a button to turn on the front camera instead of the back, lifting it to show a clear display of his face. Prompto’s bright gray-blue eyes shine brightly back at the screen. Prompto’s lips are darkened with grayish blue, complementing his gray, pale skin. There’s a tiny scar on his eyebrow from before they were able to rescue him -- he’s lucky to have so few. Noctis has some all along his spine. 

“Gray,” Prompto says, frowning at his reflection.

“Your eyes?” Ignis asks curiously.

Prompto nods. “W-will they… go back?”

“To your usual color? Yes, more than likely. Although, some people have only partial pigment recovery, some have heterochromia -- different colors in each eye. I find them all visually appealing, but I can understand not liking the color if it serves as a reminder,” Ignis says. “May I ask what color your eyes used to be?”

Prompto blinks at his reflection on the phone. “Blue… and purple.”

Ignis imagines it, a handsome young man with bright blonde hair and cornflower eyes, blonde eyelashes brushing against freckled cheeks. He imagines a smile much brighter than the ones he’s been shown today, and Ignis finds himself intrigued to see one specifically directed at himself. 

“That sounds absolutely lovely,” Ignis says. “Though, if I’m honest, you wear this color well.”

“D-dead gray?” Prompto scoffs, putting the phone down. “Not sexy.” He lets out a snort, which is a new noise, and Ignis dwells on how many new reactions he can coax out of Prompto.

Ignis laughs. “Now, now. I wouldn’t say that.”

Prompto looks over at him, amusement in his eyes. “Hmm.”

Ignis’s eyebrows shoot up. “What?”

Prompto snorts again, putting the phone over on Ignis’s lap, returning to him. “You… like dead people?”

“I never said that,” Ignis scoffs.

“Y-you blushed,” Prompto points out. “I--I used to do that a lot.”

“Flush? That will return to you, too,” Ignis promises. “With time.”

Prompto nods, his eyes growing sad again. He nods toward Ignis’s phone. “Th-thank you.”

“You do enjoy photography, do you not?” Ignis asks. “I can bring you a camera when I return tomorrow.”

Prompto’s face falls. “You’re leaving?” The words are well-enunciated and clear, not a single stammer.

“Temporarily. I do need sleep, and food, and your camera, of course,” Ignis points out. “Will that be a problem?”

Prompto shakes his head no, but his expression tells a different story.

Ignis thinks about this for a moment. “If I were to leave momentarily and return with all the things I need, would that make you feel better?” Ignis asks.

Prompto shrugs again, regressing to noncommittal responses. “N-no. Go home.”

Ignis reaches out to touch Prompto’s shoulder. “I will stay,” he promises. “Just give me a few moments?”

Prompto looks up, expression vulnerable. “Wh-why?”

Ignis laughs, as if the answer were obvious. “Because you wish me to, of course.”

Prompto looks as if he might cry, were he able to produce tears at this stage. “Thank--thank you. Ig… Ign--Iggy.” He settles for that name with a laugh. “Iggy.”

“That works,” Ignis says. “Is there a reason that you don’t wish to be alone? Is someone harming you in any way?”

Prompto laughs off the suggestion, shrugging a little. “Um… lonely.”

Affection and pity tug at Ignis’s heart. He wonders if Prompto’s affliction can be cured with simple love and care. It seems to be working thus far, and Ignis has actually heard of people recovering from their reanimation simply by being near loved ones, though he hasn’t seen it for himself just yet.

“I can understand that,” Ignis says. “I’ll be back in a few moments, alright? Shall I fetch Noctis while I’m gone?”

Prompto shrugs. “That’s… that’s okay.” He extends his hand, retrieving the necklace Ignis gave him earlier. “Y-your… necklace.”

Ignis looks at it, and then back at Prompto. “Would you like to wear it for a while?”

Prompto’s expression turns vulnerably hopeful. “B-but it’s yours.”

“And I’m allowing you to borrow it,” Ignis says. “Here, let me put it on you?”

Prompto flattens his palm, giving Ignis permission. He takes the necklace and leans in, draping the chain around his neck and fastening it. He lets his fingers brush against the lukewarm skin, and he doesn’t feel a pulse against Prompto’s jugular at this rate (heart rates don’t return until much later), but it still feels oddly comforting.

Ignis stands up, leaning back, and Prompto touches the skull that rests against his silent heart. “W-warm,” Prompto says, looking up at Ignis.

“The necklace?” Ignis asks, confused. The metal shouldn’t be warm at all.

“You,” Prompto corrects. “Your hands.”

“You felt warmth?” Ignis asks.

Prompto nods. “O-only a little.”

Ignis smiles. “This is wonderful news, Prompto. It means your symptoms are fading far quicker than I anticipated.”

“M-miracle cure,” Prompto teases. “Handsome d-doctors.”

Ignis feels the heat of more flush crop up on his cheeks as he chuckles. “Oh, I’m not a physician. You are certainly not my patient. But I… appreciate the sentiment. Thank you.”

Prompto smiles, nodding. “Wel-welcome.”

“Farewell for a bit, yes? I shall see you in a few moments,” Ignis promises.

He nods in Ignis’s direction. “Iggy.”

Ignis can’t walk down the hallway fast enough, finding his way to Noctis’s office quickly. “You won’t believe this,” Ignis says as soon as Noctis jumps from his outburst.

“Shit, you scared me,” Noctis mumbles, mouth full of takeout food as he hunches over his desk. “What’s up? How’d it go with Prom?”

“He’s _ speaking _ to me, nearly full sentences,” Ignis says. “He went from only feeling pressure to feeling _ warmth _ just during the time I was with him _ . _ He took _ photographs -- _ he likes photography. He asked about my necklace.”

Noctis looks at Ignis’s neck. “What necklace? Wait, the skull? Where is it?”

“I let him wear it,” Ignis says.

“Holy shit, Specs!” Noctis gushes. “You’ve gotten more out of him in an hour than anyone has in _ weeks _. What did you do?”

“I believe his issues are mainly psychological. His depression and remorse are far worse than any survivor that I’ve seen,” Ignis says. “He admitted to me, despite his self-loathing, that he was lonely. I believe it was his way of asking for help. I’m going to spend the night here with him, and see how much his condition can improve then.”

Noctis nods. “Need company?”

“Not at all. He’s… a pleasure to be around, I must admit,” Ignis says. “He even… teased me. Can you believe that?”

Noctis grins. “You’re amazing. I owe you _ so _ many coffee and dinner dates.”

Ignis laughs. “Would you mind keeping him company while I fetch an overnight bag?”

Noctis shakes his head, putting his takeout container down. “Not at all, man. So he doesn’t hate me? Starting to think I was the problem.”

“No, not at all,” Ignis says. “I think he’s taken a liking to me, that’s all.”

Noctis raises an eyebrow. “Oh?” He smiles. “Maybe he’s got a crush.”

“Noct, _ please. _ That’s hardly appropriate.”

“What?” Noctis says. “He’s cute.”

“That has nothing to do with--”

“Ah ha! So you admit it,” Noctis says. “We aren’t his caretakers or physicians, y’know. It’s not that weird.”

“I’m aware, but I don’t think it’s appropriate, regardless,” Ignis says. 

“Always so serious,” Noctis says. “I’ll go watch him for you, though, for sure. Thanks so much for doing this, man. I… I didn’t want to see anything bad happen to him.”

Ignis puts a hand on his shoulder. “Neither do I.”

Ignis finds himself thinking of Prompto and only Prompto as he prepares an overnight bag. He makes sure to bring his research camera (that he never really uses) for Prompto to use to his heart’s content, as it’s fully charged and ready to go. He brings some music for Prompto to listen to, all of varying genres, uncertain what Prompto might enjoy. He also brings his tablet, lest Prompto want to watch Lucisflix or some other streaming program.

It almost feels like a slumber party, only with a stranger who happens to have been undead a few weeks ago. Nothing out of the ordinary there.

When Ignis returns, he sees that Prompto isn’t as animated with Noctis as he was with Ignis, but Noctis still earns a smile or two out of the blonde. Still, when Ignis enters the room with his bag, Prompto perks up immediately, his smile widening.

“Iggy,” Prompto says, tone happy.

Noctis snorts. “Oh, well, I can see who the favorite is,” he teases. “It was nice to finally talk to you, Prom.”

“M-Mario Kart,” Prompto says softly. “Soon.”

“Oh, you know it. Once you get better, though. It’s cruel of me to beat you when you got zombie fingers,” Noctis says.

Ignis levels a glare at his friend. “_ Noct.” _

Prompto laughs, though. “Kick your ass… any day.”

Ignis raises his eyebrows. “I leave you alone with him for a half an hour and he’s already remembered how to curse.”

Prompto smiles, his eyes searching Ignis’s. “I-I kn-know how. J-just didn’t want to… do it in front of… you.”

Ignis tilts his head, sitting on the couch next to Prompto’s bed. “And why is that?”

“Too… proper,” Prompto answers.

Noctis doubles over with laughter. “Even he can see it.” He recovers a bit. “Don’t worry, Prom, you should hear it when Specs drops an F-bomb. It’s hilarious.”

“Sp-Specs?” Prompto inquires quizzically.

“His moniker for me,” Ignis clarifies, tapping the corner of his glasses. “Refers to my eyesight.”

Prompto nods, understanding. “Cute.”

Noctis has his arms crossed, smiling at the both of them. “Well, I’ll let you two get at it. Call me if you need anything?” He looks at Ignis.

“Certainly. Farewell, Noct,” Ignis murmurs. When Noctis leaves, he returns his attention to Prompto. “I think we’re alone now.”

Prompto’s mouth upturns into a reluctant smile, huffing out a soft laugh. “Do--do you say that to all the z-zombies?”

Ignis rolls his eyes. “You aren’t a zombie. And, no, actually, you’re my first.”

“Cute,” Prompto repeats. “You--you really don’t h-have to stay.”

“I’d like to, if you’ll have me,” Ignis says. “I brought some things for you.”

Prompto relaxes, arms dropping to his sides in his bed. “Oh yeah?” He looks handsome with Ignis’s necklace on, he has to admit. The chain looks rather pretty around his neck -- Ignis has never allowed anyone to wear his necklace.

Ignis nods. “Camera, of course,” he says, pulling it out of his bag and setting it on the bedside table. “Some music -- I’m uncertain if you enjoy music. Tablet, for all your streaming needs. There’s other apps, too -- drawing, social media, if that’s your poison.” He places all the items within Prompto’s reach, but doesn’t push him to use any of them.

Prompto looks at the camera, gasping again. “Wow. Ex--expensive,” Prompto notes, picking it up gently, as if it were a puppy. “This is y-yours?”

“Yes, I don’t use it much. Were you a professional photographer?” Ignis asks.

Prompto shakes his head, but laughs bitterly. “I-I wish.”

“Well, perhaps you can pick it up soon,” Ignis says.

Prompto fiddles with the camera a bit, taking a few shots before putting it down. He eyes the tablet, then looks over at Ignis. “Do… do you like to watch stuff?”

Ignis smiles gently. “Yes, from time to time. Nature documentaries and the cooking channel tend to grab my attention, though I am a sucker for some prime time dramas. And yourself?”

Prompto nods. “C-cooking is good. I’ll watch anything. N-nerdy stuff.”

“That’s always good, too,” Ignis says. “I didn’t wish to appear uncharming.” 

Prompto snorts adorably again. “D-don’t think that’s possible.”

Ignis has no idea why he feels affection course through him at this -- he’s charmed, thoroughly, and he knows it’s a bit inappropriate, but he can’t help it. “I doubt that.”

Prompto looks into his eyes, searching them for something that Ignis can’t quite put a finger on. “D--d’you wanna watch some with me?”

Ignis’s answer is immediate, embarrassingly so. “I would love to.”

Prompto pats the space on the bed next to him, scooting over. “H-hope you don’t mind the z-zombie sleepover.”

“Prompto,” Ignis chastises, sitting on the bed next to Prompto. “You ought to be kinder to yourself.”

Prompto opens his mouth to respond, but doesn’t. Instead, he leans in, knocking his shoulder with Ignis’s. “You smell nice.”

Ignis chuckles. “You can’t avoid me forever.”

Prompto nods, accepting this. “I-I’ll try, dude.”

Ignis can’t help but smile at the term of endearment -- it’s not intimate by any means, but it’s _ personal _, and seemingly personal to Prompto, which means more progress. The doctors have only administered one additional dose to him, and it seems he’s already improving. 

Ignis puts the tablet between the two of them, and Prompto selects a competition cooking show. 

“Th-these used to make me s-so hungry,” Prompto says.

“Mmm. I as well. I often try to recreate the recipes -- I often fail,” Ignis admits. “Still, cooking is fun.”

“W-was never one for cooking,” Prompto says, quieter and sadder.

“You aren’t eating yet, are you?”

Prompto shakes his head. “I-IV drip.”

Ignis nods. It’s an improvement from the previous stage, which required raw flesh (brain tissue, essentially), but it’s still not as fun as eating solids. “Well, as soon as you’re able, I’ll bring you some food. I’m not an expert chef, but it’s still a decent time.”

Prompto smiles. “Th-thanks.”

“Perhaps you can come to my home sometime, and I can teach you a thing or two? Or perhaps cook for you?” Ignis suggests.

Prompto looks up at Ignis. “You’d--you’d want to hang out with me? Outside of… all this?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Ignis asks.

“Z-zombie,” Prompto reminds him.

Ignis playfully slaps his wrist. “Stop that,” he says. “Noctis is my closest friend, might I remind you.”

“Sorry.” Prompto laughs. “Guess th-that’s true.” He winces at the tiny tablet screen as someone gets eliminated from the cooking competition. “Bye, c-cupcake guy.”

“I suppose that wasn’t a particular _ treat _ for him,” Ignis jokes.

Prompto knocks their shoulders together again, laughing a little. “Funny.” He pauses for a moment. “M-maybe he’s too s-sweet for the competition.”

Ignis feels a flurry of affection when Prompto returns the pun. “Absolutely.”

They watch three more episodes, Ignis staying awake far later than he intended in order to spend time with Prompto. The more they watch, the less Prompto needs to stammer. He becomes more expressive, and Ignis swears the mobility in his movements grows more fluid by the minute, though Ignis knows it’s likely too fast for such improvements. 

Still, Prompto’s progressing, right before his very eyes. Ignis has never seen anything quite like this.

“Do you sleep yet, Prompto? I recall your file saying it was infrequent,” Ignis says. 

Prompto shrugs. “A little. N-not the whole night.”

“Ah. Well, I’m a bit of an insomniac myself, so if you need me, you should say so. I ought to be getting _ some _ sleep, however,” Ignis says. “Do you mind?”

Prompto shakes his head. “G-get some sleep, Iggy. I had fun.”

Ignis smiles. “I as well.” He slides off of the bed to recline on the couch, giving Prompto his space. “Are you feeling alright?”

Prompto nods. “Yep. You’re r-really warm.”

His smile widens as he takes in Prompto’s words. “Glad to hear it.” He yawns. “Pleasant dreams, Prompto.”

\-----

Ignis wakes to the sound of a gentle whimper, soft the first time, and louder the second. The noises continue, and Ignis’s eyes flutter open to find Prompto writhing on the bed, half-asleep and half-awake, clearly having a nightmare.

Ignis is quick to respond, sitting up and walking over to put his hand on Prompto’s shoulder. “Prompto,” he whispers. “Wake up.”

There’s no response, but Prompto curls into the touch, turning on his side and nuzzling his head against Ignis’s hand. 

Ignis tries not to focus on that fact, but he can’t help it. Prompto’s skin still feels lukewarm, but it’s a bit warmer than before. He’s responding to the treatment, to say the least. 

“Prompto,” Ignis says louder, more authoritative. He runs a hand through Prompto’s hair. “Wake up, darling.” The term of endearment rolls easily off of his tongue, and Prompto hums contentedly, not overreacting to it all in his light slumber.

Prompto finally stirs, waking from his sleep. “Ig--Iggy,” he confirms, as if he knew Ignis was there the entire time. He reaches up to cover Ignis’s hand now on his cheek.

Ignis smiles at him. “I believe you were having a nightmare,” he says, moving to squeeze Prompto’s hand. “Are you alright?” 

Prompto frowns, dropping his hand from Ignis’s like an electric shock. “I--I’m okay.”

Ignis sits on the edge of the bed, not willing to move. “Do you wish to talk about it?” 

Prompto blinks, avoiding Ignis’s gaze as if he doesn’t want to talk about it, until he sighs. “I--I, um. I hurt you.”

Ignis raises his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“I was… I was… like before,” Prompto says, clearly indicating his past, “and I--I hurt you. I killed you. I attacked you, just like I did before.”

Ignis ignores the fact that Prompto is much more eloquent with his words after the night they spent together. “You wouldn’t attack me.”

Prompto meets his eyes reluctantly. “H-how would you know?”

Ignis allows himself a smile. “Because you’re you, and you haven’t attacked anyone here, and more importantly, I trust you. It was only a dream.”

Prompto lowers his gaze. “I--I dunno.”

Ignis reaches out again, gripping Prompto’s chin to coax his gaze up toward him. “I do. It was merely a dream,” he repeats softly. 

“Why… why would I dream about that?” Prompto asks. “If it--it’s behind me, why would I dream about you, like b-before--”

Ignis allows his thumb to stroke Prompto’s cheek soothingly. “I’m afraid traumatic memories don’t simply pass.” He gazes at Prompto, searching his features for some sort of sign. “What do you feel, right now?”

Prompto lets out a groan that Ignis has never heard before. “T-tired. Hungry?” Prompto says. He nods to himself, then looks up at Ignis, covering Ignis’s hand with his own. “I’m fucking hungry.”

Ignis barks out a laugh at the forthright way in which Prompto speaks, not having anticipated such a response. “Hungry for…?”

“I want… Iggy, I want a milkshake.”

Ignis can’t help but grin. The nightmare was a setback, of course, but craving solid foods that _ aren’t _brain matter is a complete win. “Well, we ought to go, then.”

Prompto seems surprised. “Right now?”

“Yes, of course. Neither of us can sleep, correct?” Ignis responds playfully.

“Um… no.”

“Precisely.” Ignis stands up straight, holding his arm out. “Care to join me?”

Prompto shyly smiles, and takes Ignis’s hand. It’s even warmer than before they went to sleep, and Ignis’s heart hopefully thuds in his chest at this. “I-I’d be honored.”

It’s not long before Ignis is watching Prompto sit in the passenger’s seat of his car like he belongs there. Ignis could certainly grow accustomed to that, if he’s honest. He _ does _ look like he belongs there, settling comfortably next to Ignis, looking around his car with an impressed look on his face.

Ignis drives downtown, and clicks his tongue against his teeth disapprovingly. “It would appear our only options are diner food at this hour.”

“I l-love diner food. Well, used to.”

Ignis can’t help but smile as he imagines it. “Diner food it is.”

Ignis picks a secluded booth in the diner, far away from prying eyes. People are genuinely better about seeing someone with a condition like Prompto’s than they were a few years ago, but Ignis is overly cautious and protective. Prompto thinks nothing of it, apparently, as he starts taking photographs of the restaurant with Ignis’s camera he brought, and of Ignis.

The waitress approaches the table, blonde curly hair, freckles, and pretty green eyes. Prompto gazes at her shyly, with a soft smile, and Ignis finds himself wishing such a smile would be directed at him instead. 

Ignis has no idea why such a thought came to his mind, but he pushes it away in favor of watching Prompto, a strange jealousy still tugging away at him.

“Howdy y’all, my name’s Cindy. What can I get for ya?” she asks, a darling accent to go with her face.

Prompto’s smile widens. “H-hi.”

Cindy grins. “Well, hey there.”

Ignis purses his lips. “We’d like a milkshake, if you don’t mind. Strawberry, Prompto?”

Prompto nods, his eyes not leaving Cindy’s. “Yeah.” He sighs. “I-I like your accent.”

“Well aren’t you just darlin’?” Cindy says, the corners of her eyes crinkling with the intensity of her smile. “Thank ya kindly! I sure can bring y’all a milkshake, no problem! It’ll be right out.”

“My thanks,” Ignis says.

Prompto’s eyes lock with Ignis’s. “Sh--she didn’t hate me.”

Ignis tilts his head curiously, pushing away the strange jealousy he feels in favor of comforting Prompto. “Of course she didn’t. Why would she?”

Prompto gives him a pointed look, smiling and shaking his head. “N-not everyone is as… sweet as you.”

Affection floods through Ignis’s heart, any bare minimum of adoration from Prompto affecting him strongly after feeling a bout of jealousy. “Perhaps, but I can’t imagine anyone hating someone as wonderful as you.”

Prompto smiles -- it’s not as wide as the one he gave Cindy, but it will do nicely -- and ducks his head. “Gonna give me an... ego, Iggy.”

Ignis chuckles. “Brilliant. You deserve one.”

“No way,” Prompto insists, laughing adorably. He looks over at where Cindy is putting their order in, and sighs. “P-pretty.”

That ache in Ignis’s chest returns. “Yes, she’s lovely.”

Prompto looks at Ignis with slight surprise. “You l-like her?”

Ignis doesn’t wish Prompto to get the wrong idea; if he wants to pursue Cindy, he won’t find any competition. “She seems wonderful, but I’m afraid she’s not my type.” He laughs awkwardly.

Prompto nods, his smile starting to return. “D-don’t like freckles? I’m in trouble.”

Ignis tries not to read too much into that -- it’s only been one evening and Prompto’s already comfortable enough to flirt, which is a wonderful sign, but not so much for Ignis’s poor heart. “I quite like _ your _ freckles,” Ignis says pointedly. “I prefer the company of men.”

“Oh,” Prompto says, ducking his head once more. “C-cool.”

Ignis wants to ask, but doesn’t wish to come on too strong. “And yourself? If that’s too forward, I apologize--”

Prompto shakes his head, a peculiar expression in his eyes -- thoughtful, perhaps? “I like e-everyone. Pretty people.” He shrugs.

“Ah, I can see why you like Cindy, then,” Ignis comments, studying Prompto’s face. It seems foolish, but Ignis is almost relieved when he discovers Prompto’s romantic preferences. 

Prompto nods. “Pretty,” he agrees, avoiding Ignis’s gaze. “L-Like you.”

Ignis feels affection quicken his heart rate easily. He looks at Prompto while he’s looking away from Ignis, and for the briefest moment, he can see himself infatuated with the man sitting across from him.

“As are you,” Ignis says finally.

That brings Prompto’s attention back to him, surprise coloring his features. “Y-you like zombies, huh?” He smiles, though he’s bashful, gazing over at Ignis with half-lidded eyes that have no business looking as charming as they do.

Cindy interrupts them by bringing them their milkshake. “I brought two straws ‘n spoons in case you get tired of sharin’ with your boyfriend,” she says to Prompto, looking over at Ignis to smile. “Can I get y’all anything else?”

Ignis feels heat crop up on his cheeks at their waitress’s error, and he shakes his head no. “I’m quite alright, thank you kindly.”

Prompto doesn’t correct Cindy either, smiling sheepishly. “Thanks.”

When she walks off, Prompto meets his eyes. “She th-thinks you like zombies, too,” he teases.

Ignis’s heart thuds pathetically in his chest. “I can see why, you’re very charming indeed.”

“Likewise, _ b-boyfriend,” _ Prompto says, an adorable laugh making its way out of his chest.

As they share their milkshake together, enjoying the taste of the ice cream in favor of talking, Ignis comes to the dreadful conclusion that he does, in fact, have a bit of a crush on Prompto.

Prompto smiles at him, laughing a bit when the end of their milkshake causes his straw to make too much noise, and it all but confirms it.

They end up ordering another, and Prompto gets some food to go with it, his appetite increasing as the night goes on.

“Wh-what happens if I’m not… ready for… food?” Prompto asks, putting another fry in his mouth. His fingers are a bit more dexterous, as well, Ignis has noticed.

“Nothing. You won’t get sick, otherwise you would have been nauseous already,” Ignis says. “If you weren’t ready for solids, it wouldn’t have an effect on you, nutritionally or otherwise.”

Prompto considers this. “I’m t-totally getting a cheeseburger, then.”

Ignis orders one as well.

When Ignis pays the bill and they return to the car, he turns to Prompto. “Shall we head back?”

Prompto purses his lips thoughtfully. “Would we… get in trouble if we j-just drove around?”

Ignis shakes his head. “Not at all. You aren’t a prisoner, Prompto. You may do what you like, seeing as you’re not…”

Prompto rolls his eyes at Ignis’s hesitance, and mimics an overexaggerated version of a zombie. “_ Braaaains…” _ He smiles. “Right?”

Ignis can’t help but huff out a fondly exasperated laugh. “Well, in not quite so colorful terms, yes.”

“W-wanna see Insomnia,” Prompto says. “Can we just drive f-for a … bit?”

Ignis is already backing out of the parking lot when he responds. “Certainly.” He decides to take Prompto through nearly all the city streets, wanting him to see the city at night before the sun rises. “Your words are coming a lot easier, it seems.”

“E-easy to talk to… you,” Prompto notes, lifting the camera and taking some pictures as they drive by.

Ignis grips the steering wheel a little tighter, ignoring the butterflies that flutter through him. “I’m glad.”

They’re quiet for a bit, Prompto falling into a mesmerized silence as Ignis drives him through downtown Insomnia. 

“You’ve never been to the crown city before?” Ignis wonders.

“N-nope, always wanted to,” Prompto says. “It’s beautiful.”

“We’ll have all the time to explore while you’re here, if you’re interested,” Ignis says gently, not wanting to come on too strong.

Prompto smiles. “I’d l-love that.”

They eventually return to the rehabilitation center when the sun finally rises, and as soon as Ignis walks in with Prompto on his arm, Gladio walks up to the front door, worry in his eyes.

“Holy shit, we thought they took him,” Gladio says. “Is everything okay?”

Ignis hadn’t thought about what taking Prompto out would look like. “Apologies. Prompto was craving some food, so I took him to get a bite to eat.”

“H-hey, Gladio,” Prompto says a bit shyly.

Gladio looks at Prompto with surprise. “Hey, blondie. You’re talking now, huh?” 

Prompto smiles. “I g-guess I am.”

“Doctors wanna give him another dose, ‘cause I guess the treatment’s working,” Gladio notes. “Can you tell me next time you two decide to go on a date?”

That’s the second person who’s mistaken Ignis’s intentions, and he tries to ignore the flush that appears on his cheeks. “I will inform you should we take another excursion, yes.”

When Gladio heads back down the hallway, Prompto looks up at Ignis. “Guess we l-look cute together, huh?”

Ignis can’t help the smile that involuntary tugs at his lips. “I suppose we do.”

Ignis has no idea how so much changed in so little time, but he finds himself grateful that Noctis called about Prompto. Prompto’s starting to work his way into Ignis’s life in ways that he never anticipated.

When they reach Prompto’s room, they both end up falling asleep again, Ignis on the couch and Prompto in his bed.

When they awaken, Prompto looks at him with a gentle sort of surprise. “You stayed.”

Ignis smiles, stretching as he sits up. “I did. How did you sleep, Prompto?”

“Good,” Prompto says, still gazing at Ignis.

Ignis squints a bit, trying to search Prompto’s eyes. They’re still bright gray, of course, but Ignis sees something else in them. He leaves the couch in favor of getting a closer look, and Prompto starts to laugh nervously.

“U-um, are you okay?” Prompto asks, confused.

Ignis tilts Prompto’s chin up, smiling softly at what he sees in one of Prompto’s eyes. “There’s a bit of violet in one of your irises,” he says. “It’s beautiful.”

Prompto blinks, wide-eyed. “Really?” 

Ignis fishes his phone out of his pocket, turning on the front camera for Prompto to see for himself. He has the pleasure of watching Prompto’s face bloom into a beautiful smile as he blinks in the camera, trying to see as much of his natural eye color as possible.

“Is this a good thing?” Prompto asks, still grinning beautifully.

Ignis nods, Prompto’s smile contagious enough to spread on his own lips. “It’s a wonderful thing.”

\-----

Since the night Prompto and Ignis went for milkshakes about a week ago, so much of Prompto’s demeanor has changed. He speaks faster, with far less stammering, uses more slang (Igster appears to be his favorite nickname for Ignis). He takes more pictures, watches more movies and television, and he even has started humming to himself. He interacts with Gladio and Noctis more, but never as much as he does with Ignis (much to Ignis’s subtle delight). 

Ignis has never seen such improvement so quickly, and he can’t help but feel grateful that his condition improves more and more every day -- _ hourly, _ almost. Ignis doesn’t spend the night with Prompto every night, but mornings that he does, Prompto starts to look at Ignis like he’s the one responsible for the sun rising.

Ignis can certainly relate to that feeling.

Prompto’s starting to regain a bit of color to his skin, the gray fading out in favor of a pale peachy complexion. It allows Ignis to better see Prompto’s freckles, and he finds that they’re not just on his face, but _ everywhere, _ and they’re absolutely darling. More color appears in Prompto’s eyes, not just violet, but blue as well. There’s only a ring of gray around them now, and they’re far too beautiful for Ignis to have words for.

Ignis finds himself staying later and later every night when he doesn’t stay over, and he arrives far earlier than he should after he ends up going home. Spending time with Prompto has become one of the few highlights of his life, and he has no idea how to tell Prompto how he feels without seeming forward.

Noctis thinks that Ignis should simply tell him, but it isn’t that simple, not to Ignis. It’s _ never _ that simple.

Still, it almost _ seems _ that simple when Prompto absolutely beams when Ignis knocks on his door.

“Iggy!” Prompto says, cheerful. There’s a tiny flush to his pale features now, and it’s far too endearing. “G’morning!”

“Prompto,” Ignis says. “It’s wonderful to see you this morning. How did you sleep?”

“I slept all n-night,” Prompto says. “It’s a miracle, dude.”

“Glad to hear it,” Ignis responds with a smile. “You look radiant, don’t you? You gain more and more color every day, even _ I _ can’t keep up.”

“Well, gotta have somethin’ g-goin’ for me, since you get more and more handsome every day,” Prompto says with a smirk.

It’s compliments like those that wrap around Ignis’s heart and squeezes, and it takes everything in him not to just tell Prompto how much he adores him.

“I could say the same to you,” Ignis says instead, and Prompto flushes slightly as if he’d said the words he _ really _ wanted to say anyway.

“Such a flatterer,” Prompto says. “Noct says I can start figuring out where to go soon, and he offered to let me stay with him.”

Noctis and Prompto have gotten fairly close, seeing as they both were reanimated at some point in their lives. It’s a bond that Prompto can’t quite share with Ignis, so he’s glad Noct is there for him in that regard.

Still, a flurry of disappointment flows through Ignis at the thought of Prompto being more comfortable staying with Noct instead of himself.

“Ah. Well, it would be rather nice to have you close. Did you say yes?” Ignis wonders, tone far too prying to be as casual as he intended.

Prompto reaches back, rubbing the back of his neck shyly. “Well, uh, not yet. I said I’d th-think about it, but, um… I’d really like to be close. To you. After I leave here, I mean. I… like us.”

Ignis tries to ignore that affection that tugs away at him once more, and fails. “I like us, as well. If I may be a bit forward, you can stay with me as long as you’d like as well. I’m uncertain if you’d prefer being closer to Noct, but… I would be happy to offer you a place to stay. I even have an empty bedroom.” 

Prompto smiles. “Aw, Iggy, that’s… that’s so sweet of you, really. Zombie roommate, huh?”

Ignis shakes his head. “Prompto, I thought we were past using such terms…?”

Prompto laughs. “Sorry.”

There’s a knock on the door that interrupts the both of them, heads turning to find Noctis entering the room.

“Hey, guys,” Noctis says. “There’s a visitor here for you, Prom? He says he’s a friend of yours.”

Prompto frowns. “Wh-what? I don’t… have any friends?”

“Did he give you a name?” Ignis wonders.

“He left it on the sign-in form, didn’t bother to look,” Noctis says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “D’you… want me to send him in, or…?”

Prompto shrugs. “I guess?”

Ignis nods. “I’ll be down the hall if you need anything, Prompto.”

Prompto’s never mentioned anyone that would possibly visit him, so curiosity that Ignis has no business having gnaws away at him as he leaves the room with Noctis, giving Prompto his privacy with his friend.

“Didn’t know anyone wanted to bother visiting him,” Noctis notes as they sit in his office down the hall. “He’s not really talked about anyone outside of here.”

Ignis shrugs. “He’s entitled to his secrets, I suppose.”

“You seem bothered,” Noctis teases. “Jealous?”

Ignis rolls his eyes. “Hardly.”

“I think he likes you,” Noctis says. “I mean, I know how _ you _ feel, but you guys have gotten really close. I wouldn’t be surprised if the reason he’s been improving so fast is because of you.”

Ignis throws a wary glance in Noctis’s direction. “Me?”

“Yeah, like some of us don’t recover ‘til they’re around someone they love,” Noctis points out, “or at least, it helps. I think you might be it for him.”

Ignis’s heart hammers hopefully at the notion. “I don’t know how he feels. I offered him to stay with me, and he seemed happy about it.”

Noctis rolls his eyes. “Well, duh. I can _ tell _ how he feels. He’s been blushing around you before he even could. Is his heart beating yet?”

“Not yet,” Ignis says. “I imagine it will happen soon.”

“You really helped him,” Noctis says. “Are you gonna ask him out?”

Ignis bites his lip. “I would love to, once he’s on his feet. I don’t wish to corner him.”

Noctis grins. “I think he wants you to corner him,” he teases. “I get it, though.”

“I care for him a lot, Noct,” Ignis admits. “I’ve never felt this way before.”

“He’ll love to know, trust me,” Noctis says.

Ignis sighs, about to respond when he hears a crash from down the hall, followed by Prompto very distinctly yelling, “Get off of me!”

Ignis’s eyes widen, immediately getting up to rush down the hall, Noctis not far behind him. “Prompto!” Ignis yells worriedly.

Ignis bursts into Prompto’s room to find his visitor strangling Prompto on the floor, his camera knocked onto the ground, completely broken. The stranger doesn’t seem to worry that Ignis and Noctis are here; it seems that he’s more keen on finishing what he started, his fingers closing tighter around Prompto’s throat.

Prompto’s eyes find Ignis’s, panicked as he starts to choke. “I--Iggy!” 

“Prompto,” Ignis utters. “Unhand him _ immediately!” _ Ignis says to the attacker, crossing the room in several fast strides to tackle the man trying to hurt Prompto.

Ignis’s tackle frees Prompto from the man’s grasp, but it puts all of the attention on Ignis. He dodges several punches before kneeing the man in the stomach. Noctis runs behind him to grab the man’s arms, and it isn’t long before Gladio pins him to the ground entirely.

“You didn’t do a background check?” Ignis asks Noctis pointedly, breathing a bit labored from the scuffle.

“He killed my daughter,” the man chokes out. “He doesn’t deserve to live fancy in here while she’s...”

Prompto finishes coughing, still on the floor, looking a bit in shock. The man’s words settle in, and he blinks worriedly at his attacker before bringing his knees to his chest, hugging himself. It’s a similar position to the one Ignis found him in when they first met -- it’s closed-off, and Prompto stays silent.

“He isn’t responsible for his affliction,” Ignis says sharply. “How dare you suggest otherwise.”

“Yeah, but you are. Hope you like jail,” Gladio grumbles. He lets up, grabbing the man off of the ground and handing him off to security.

Ignis couldn’t care less what happens to the man after this, if he’s honest. He walks over to Prompto, sitting next to him. “Prompto,” Ignis whispers softly, “darling, I’m so terribly sorry this happened to you.” He places a hand on Prompto’s knee.

Noctis looks over at the both of them. “I’ll give you guys some alone time?”

Ignis nods just as tears fill Prompto’s eyes, and Ignis wonders when he regained the ability to cry. He certainly didn’t wish to find out in this way, as he turns his head to look at Ignis with wide, sad eyes just as one of the tears overflows onto his cheek. “He was r-right.”

“No, he wasn’t,” Ignis promises, wrapping his arm around Prompto. He sighs pleasurably when Prompto melts into his embrace, resting his head on his shoulder. “You’re wonderful, Prompto, the sweetest man I’ve ever met. Not a single word he said was true, and you know it deep down, I know that you do.”

“How am I supposed to… live with myself, or be happy, when I’ve… I’ve hurt people when I didn’t even kn-know it?” Prompto asks.

Ignis starts stroking the soft strands of Prompto’s blonde hair gently, wanting to comfort him as much as he can. “It won’t be easy, but you have to know that it isn’t your fault. Allow those around you to comfort you and love you.”

“How can anyone,” Prompto starts, sniffling, “love me? When I’m like this? After what I’ve d-done?”

“Quite easily,” Ignis promises. “_ I _ do.”

The words tumble from his lips so easily, it’s almost as if Ignis never said them at all. 

Prompto freezes in his arms, lifting his head from Ignis’s chest to look into his eyes. “Wh-what?” he asks, wide-eyed.

Ignis lets out a nervous chuckle. “I love you, you know. I apologize for the ill timing, but you’ve taken a hold of my heart and I’ve been trying to keep it a--”

“You love me?” Prompto asks, a smile spreading on his face, eyes still teary as he sniffles. “Why?”

Ignis’s trailing fingers through Prompto’s hair stop in favor of cradling his head. “Why not?”

Prompto gasps, his hand reaching up to cover his chest. He lets out a few heavy exhales, breath wavering as he continues to put a hand over his heart. “My… my heart, it’s--”

Ignis’s jaw nearly drops, reaching over to join Prompto’s hand over his chest. Surely enough, Ignis feels the heartbeat, pulse steadily thrumming against his palm. “Prompto, this is wonderful news,” he whispers. “Did I…?”

“It wasn’t beating before you said that, trust me, it feels like a freakin’ jackhammer,” Prompto gushes. “You made my heart beat.”

The words are meant to be literal, but Ignis’s romantic, foolish heart hammers in his chest regardless. Ignis can’t help but smile, letting out a carefree yet vulnerably nervous laugh. “My heart beat for you from the moment we met.”

Prompto grins, his face flushing fully and beautifully. “Holy shit, that was _ cheesy!” _ he teases, hand leaving his own chest in favor of reaching to cup Ignis’s cheek. “I love it. I love you.”

Hearing the words repeated back to Ignis is almost too much. He holds Prompto’s hand against his cheek. “I couldn’t resist, love.”

“Gods, I thought you were j-just… charming as hell, and I was an idiot for catching feelings,” Prompto says. “Why the hell would you like a guy like me?”

“Well, for starters, you’re kind, funny, and far too adorable for words,” Ignis murmurs. Prompto starts to duck his head shyly under the attention, which only eggs Ignis on further. “Every time you teased me, I was so thoroughly charmed it took every restraint not to lean in and kiss your darling face.”

Prompto starts to giggle. “Iggy, stop--”

“Speaking of your face,” Ignis says teasingly, unable to resist continuing, “your freckles are to die for, and I wish to kiss every single one of them. Your eyes are absolutely mesmerizing, no matter the color, though I’m growing very fond of the blue and violet, I must admit. You flush without even being able to until now, it’s so distracting. And your smile, don’t even get me _ started--” _

Prompto snickers, leaning in suddenly, cutting him off with a kiss. Prompto’s lips are warm and soft, and Ignis can’t get enough of him. He returns the kiss with twice as much intensity, pulling Prompto onto his lap to kiss him fully, their lips melting together in the best way possible. Prompto’s fingers stroke Ignis’s cheek as they kiss, and Ignis finds his hands tangling in his hair. 

When Prompto pulls away, breathless, he only dives in for no less than three more kisses (Ignis loses count after the third, utterly in a daze). 

Prompto looks into Ignis’s eyes after that, pressing his forehead against Ignis’s. “I knew you had a thing for zombies,” he teases. “But boy, am I lucky?”

“Please,” Ignis scoffs. “My ‘thing’ is for you, and you only.”

Prompto sighs wistfully. “Gods, same. When I first saw you, I…” He laughs. “I really hoped you’d come talk to me.”

“Oh?” Ignis teases, pecking the corner of Prompto’s mouth again affectionately. “Is that why you were so receptive to me?”

“Yeah. Totally thought you were hot, man,” Prompto says. “I knew I didn’t have a chance, ‘cause, y’know, _ zombie _, but…”

“Nonsense. You’re perfect,” Ignis assures him, peppering Prompto’s face in kisses. “Come stay with me. You don’t need to be here any longer, love. Would you care to?”

Prompto beams, giggling under Ignis’s attention (and lips). “I’d love to. Holy shit, when you asked me earlier, I almost blurted about my big ol’ crush…”

Ignis chuckles, kissing him once more, unable to help himself. “I would have loved it.”

“Can I stay the night with you, then?” Prompto asks. “I’ve been dying to cuddle you since the moment we met, not gonna l-lie.”

Ignis tucks a lock of Prompto’s hair behind his ear. “I thought you’d _ never _ ask.”

\-----

**Author's Note:**

> shoutout to the incredible [aneurin](https://twitter.com/chubbyargentum) for drawing a piece dedicated to/inspired by this fic! he's a wonderful artist and a really great advocate for ~canon (chubby/fat) prompto that i really enjoy!  
i always liked in warm bodies that falling in love could make a zombie's heart beat again ;-; and u know me, i imagine these boys in eVERY POSSIBLE AU SCENARIO lmao  
my [twitter](https://twitter.com/ignisgayentia) and [tumblr](https://ignisgayentia.tumblr.com/)!


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